The Doctor is David
by rockbloodyon
Summary: Natalie Frost is just another ordinary teenage girl with a love for Doctor Who. Her dreams of time travel, adventure and seeing the program behind the scenes suddenly become very, very real...
1. Introduction, Happy Birthday!

The Doctor Is David

This idea has been floating around my head for some time now and I haven't even attempted once to get it down in writing, but finally here it is.

A couple of things you may need to take note of:  
-The times are a bit out of sync, Martha is still with the Doctor in 2008 and Blink was the last episode aired on TV on the 19th January 2008.  
-Italics are thoughts…sometimes. You will have to watch out, it may get confusing.

This is my interpretation of what would happen if the Doctor actually was real…

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, do you really think I would be writing fanfiction about it?

**Introduction**

**Happy Birthday!**

It was a crisp winter's morning on the 19th of January 2008. The robin sitting in the hawthorn bush at the end of the garden did not anticipate an unusual set of circumstances arising that day, nor in fact did the spider lacing its cobweb around the delicate twigs of a birch. It was just another chilly, yet sunny, day in the neat English suburbs.

Natalie Frost however saw the day as one of fun and much excitement as well as many long awaited surprises. For the 19th day of January 1995 was the day she was born and today, she was turning thirteen years old.

Her bedroom door creaked open, waking her instantly. "What do you want?" Came the annoyed voice from somewhere under the duvet. A tall, thin man wearing a tight, blue suit walked into the room, a wide grin plastered happily on his handsome face. He was carrying a neatly wrapped present and a cupcake with a single candle sticking out the top.

"Good morning to you too sunshine." He sat himself down on the edge of the bed and poked the Natalie shaped lump under the duvet. She sat up immediately, her tousled, curly black hair falling into her dark eyes. The expression on her face was not one of a positive nature. "What?" She repeated, glaring at the man who had intruded on her sleep.

"Happy Birthday Nat." He grinned again and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Open your present then!"

"It is 5 in the morning!"

"It is still your birthday. Do you have to be so difficult?"

Natalie glared at him again but couldn't help the smile creeping onto her face. _Why is his grin so infectious?_

"Thanks Tony." Natalie smiled and pulled her older brother into a tight hug. "But I'll open it later. Go on, you'll be late for work."

"See you later Nat!"

A minute later, Natalie was asleep, a half eaten cupcake still in her hand.

* * *

"Happy Birthday Sweetheart!" Natalie's mother released her out of a tight hug. 

Natalie yawned widely. "Thanks mum."

"Why are you so tired Honey?"

"The Judoon's uglier little brother woke me up at 5 to give me a cake."

"Who?"

"Anthony."

Jean Frost tutted. "I wish you would stop insulting your brother, he was only trying to wish you a happy birthday."

"Yeah I know."

"So what did he get you?"

Wrapping paper flew everywhere as Natalie tore open the parcel. She let out a chuckle as she saw what her older brother had bought her.

"It's a Doctor Who figurine. Of the Doctor himself. He looks exactly like the version on my posters." She was referring to one of the several Doctor Who posters she had plastered on her bedroom walls.

"Looks a bit like Anthony if you ask me." Jean said, peering over her daughter's shoulder at the figurine.

Natalie sighed. "Speaking of Doctor Who, can you tape it for me at 7 tonight please; I'm going to Max's house for a 'surprise party'."

"Max?"

"Max is a girl, mother. You know, my best friend. Please, can you tape Doctor Who!"

"You are obsessed with that silly program you know. I hope you realise that it is just actors and special effects. Time travel isn't possible."

"Mum, I am thirteen years old, not four. I think I know that by now, there is no need to be patronising." She looked at her mother disapprovingly but then suddenly continued, "Although, they say that time travel could be possible, it is just that it isn't. We don't have the power as human beings to create anything that moves so slowly it goes backwards, we can only make something that physically goes backwards, not resist the fields of time. What is needed is "the eye of a storm" to make something travel in time. The "something" is in dynamic equilibrium with the rest of time but then some how will need to speed up, removing the equilibrium and therefore existing independently within time. When it stops moving, the "thing" will be somewhere else entirely. That is time travel, and I'm telling you, once they crack the puzzle of removing the time equilibrium, we can travel in time. There must be an explanation for everything, even fiction. Even Doctor Who." Natalie hadn't breathed throughout any of the longwinded explanation she had given so her face was now a glowing pink. Her sparkling eyes met her mother's.

"Yes well, save it for your Physics lessons dear, because I have no idea what you are talking about." And after that, Jean Frost bustled out of the room, leaving a hurt Natalie alone in the kitchen, her intelligence feeling deeply insulted.

* * *

It was 10:05 when Natalie returned that night. Max's dad had kindly given her a lift home. She snuck quietly in through the front door and headed towards the kitchen. A steaming mug of hot chocolate made, she tiptoed into the lounge and put the recorded Doctor Who episode "Blink" on. 

_Bad time of day to be watching this episode… Oh crap, what the hell was that…_

A floorboard creaked upstairs, making Natalie jump. She heard a wide yawn and realised it was just her brother.

_Trust him to scare the hell out of me…_

Satisfied by the days events, Natalie climbed into bed with a smile on her face at 11 o'clock. She drifted off within minutes, thoughts of time travel, presents and 5 inch tall Doctor figurines filling her dreams.

An hour later she woke with a start. There could only be one reason for her waking up, and that was her brother.

"Tony, go away, please!"

No reply. And that was when she heard it. A sound like no other. The sound of the universe. The powerful whooshing sound of the TARDIS materialising in her room…

* * *

Natalie turned over in her bed and glared at the mobile phone that was vibrating on her bedside table. Who on earth could be calling at this ridiculous hour? Deciding she didn't much care to talk to anyone right now, she switched her phone off without even glancing at the caller, cutting of the haunting sound, leaving the room in a blissful silence.

With a final glance at her new Doctor figurine, she snuggled back under the duvet, sinking back into the warm depths of her dreams.

* * *

"Nnnn…not again…" Natalie pulled the pillow over her ears. Her phone was ringing _again_. Sticking a pale arm out from under her soft sanctuary, she reached for her mobile and pulled it into her dark lair. 

_Wait a second… I switched my phone__ off. So if my phone is off….WHAT is making that noise?_

She sat up at the speed of light, pulling off the duvet only to see…

* * *

"The TARDIS is incredible!" Martha exclaimed. "You can even program her to fly by herself." 

"Well, always comes in handy when you get transported to 1969 by a living statue!" came the muffled reply from underneath the console.

"You can say that again!" Martha said.

"Always comes in handy when you get transported to 1969 by a living statue." The Doctor repeated.

"I didn't mean literal— oh never mind. You're not even listening anyway."

"Yes I am!" said the Doctor indignantly, He stood up quickly, bashing his head on the underside of the console as he rose. "Ow…"

"But Doctor, aren't there more Weeping Angels out there?"

"Oh yes, hundreds of them."

"What about the other people who get touched by them then?"

"Oh they'll be alright! I gave the Timey Wimey Detector to an old man in 1969."

Martha raised an eyebrow.

"Goes ding when there's stuff!" He smiled at her with a grin that would melt the entire Earth. Twice.

Martha laughed and grinned back, deciding to drop the subject.

"So Doctor, where are we off to next? Or do I get a chance to relax for a while? My feet are killing me!" Martha said hopefully, although she knew the reply before the question had passed her lips.

"Martha, you should know by now, there is no rest for the wicked! And as for where we are going…well, who knows where we might end up!" His eyes widened as he gave her _that _look, the one that sold her the universe as he pulled a lever dramatically, sending them spinning into the Time Vortex.

* * *

There it was. _Unbelievably_, there it was. As majestic as Natalie had always imagined in her dreams; the TARDIS stood in the corner of her bedroom. The TARDIS itself. 

"_No…"_ Natalie whispered, eyes as wide as plates.

So, time travel was possible after all. But was this the Doctor? Natalie's angel of hope and devil of cynicism began fighting in her mind.

_It can't be the Doctor, he is a fictional character__ on a television program played by an actor called David Tennant.  
__**Then why is the TARDIS standing in your room?  
**__It could be Tony playing a trick.  
__**Oh come on, are you serious?  
**__He has done stuff like this before.  
__**No he hasn't, putting a HUGE blue box in someone's room isn't just "stuff".  
**__Fine then, it is a figment of your imagination.  
__**Looks pretty real to me…  
**__Yes well, your imagination tends to run away with you sometim—_

Natalie's internal battle stopped the instant she stepped out of her bed. It had to be real. She definitely wasn't dreaming, she knew that much. Somehow the room felt…she didn't know how it felt. It was so incredibly difficult to describe. It felt like a cross between the feeling you got when you were little, experiencing Disneyland for the first time, the warm glow of a fire on your skin and huge amounts of static electricity in the air.

The tingling under her skin intensified as she stepped closer to the imposing blue box, it was definitely alive. She held her breath as she stretched out a shaking hand to touch the smooth wood surface. _So close…_. Her eyelids fluttered shut as her fingertips reached the surface of the door–

_WHAM!_

The door had swung open violently to reveal the man himself, in all his Time Lord glory…the Doctor.

"Hello!"

* * *

A/N: So, tell me what you think! I have written Chapters 1 and 2, so if you want to see them you've got to review! (Blackmail, mwahahaha) 


	2. Chapter 1, Fiction or Reality?

Well, here is Chapter 1. It is up a bit earlier than I intended, but it is a reward for myself because I just finished the final chapter. I still have the middle to write of course... Hmmm...

Disclaimer: As you will soon find out in my story, Doctor Who really doesn't belong to me.

**Chapter 1**

**Fiction or Reality?**

The Doctor swung open the TARDIS door a little _too_ enthusiastically; he was slightly more hyperactive that day than usual. He wasn't entirely sure what had caused it. Maybe he was just glad to be reunited with his beloved TARDIS after the incident with the Weeping Angels. Or, as Martha had quite unjustly pointed out, the jar of foam bananas was empty and someone had to have eaten them for them to have vanished. Her accusing eyes had of course been directed at him. He pretended to have no idea what she was talking about and set about explaining the probability of Belgium being hit squarely in the chest by a paradox whilst the entire population ate satsumas. She wasn't fooled.

The sight that greeted him on the other side of the TARDIS door was a teenage girl with an expression on her face that conveyed nothing but pure and utter shock standing a few inches away from the TARDIS.

"Hello!" He grinned at her broadly. She didn't move. Maybe she was a statue? Best not blink… He stepped out of the TARDIS.

"Er…" was all he could say, this quite short girl with long black curls and big, nearing black eyes was intimidating him with her gaping mouth and slightly demonic expression.

"Culture shock. Must be on Earth. Blimey…say something will you? You're making me nervous, and I'm telling you, that doesn't happen often! Well, unless you count that time when I had to decide the fate of the earth back on Satellite Five, phwoar, I nearly gave up then, and I don't…don't… do… tha…that… often…" He trailed off, eyes widening as he caught sight of the contents of her room. They flitted quickly from one poster to another, drinking in the dozens of his own faces staring back at him, his own, real face depicting a look of horror.

Gulping, his eyes returned to Natalie's still shocked face and he said in a hoarse voice, "We need to talk."

"About what Doctor?" came Martha's voice from somewhere in the TARDIS. She appeared in the doorway of the TARDIS. "Hi." She smiled at the girl stood next to the Doctor. "About what Doctor?" She repeated.

"Take a look around you Martha." The Doctor whispered.

"Wha— Oh my God!" Martha's face mirrored the Doctor's exactly. Wide eyes turning to Natalie, her voice also a whisper, "Have you been stalking us?"

Natalie blinked. "What?"

Martha smiled sympathetically, realising they were in no immediate danger. "I guess not. What's your name?"

"It can't be…you are Martha aren't you?" Natalie finally found her voice.

"Yes, but how did you know? Where did all these posters come from?"

"It is not what it looks like, honest. But…but…you aren't real. You're _fictional_ characters…"

Martha snorted. "How can we be fictional, we are right here in front of you."

Before any more could be said on the matter the Doctor cut in.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Natalie."

"Right well, Natalie. Is there something you would like to tell us?"

* * *

The Doctor, having established that he was not going to get a fully formed sentence from Natalie just yet and of course being his usual polite self, invited himself for a cup of tea in the kitchen, with a biscuit, he had insisted. The journey downstairs was slow, particularly as it was pitch black and the Doctor's sense of direction had been faulty for as long as he could remember. Several bruises and a stubbed toe later, he found himself in a small, cosy kitchen with a cup of tea in hand and Martha tending to the cut on his head. Natalie had scurried off to explain to her cross mother that she had just tripped down the stairs on the way to get a glass of water, but she was fine and was heading back to bed.

"I can't believe I fell down the stairs! I haven't done that in years!" The Doctor said indignantly, in a rather loud voice.

"Doctor, people are trying to sleep!" Whispered Martha. "There, all better."

"I could have just sonicked my cut to heal it you know."

"Well, I need my practice, even if it is just a tiny cut in need of a plaster. Otherwise I'll never pass my exams!"

"Ah, the Lady of Mystery herself! So are you going to tell us what is going on?" The Doctor jumped up as Natalie walked in. She seemed ready to talk. "Ok," she began, in a slow, shaky voice, "basically, you two feature in a television program called…" she hesitated for a moment before ploughing on, "Doctor Who."

The Doctor raised an incredulous eyebrow and said softly, "A television program?"

Natalie nodded, too intimidated to speak.

"Doctor Who?! Is that the best they could come up with?!" Martha scoffed.

"Now, now Martha, focus…" The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. "Natalie, what television channel is it broadcasted by? Not some alien channel from Marx in the Candid and Courtesy Nebula I hope? Miles away that is…and the locals have a habit of stuffing raisins in your ears. It's not pleasant, I can tell you that!"

"BBC 1 actually."

"Oh, well, that's alright then!"

"It is?" Martha asked, looking surprised.

"Oh yes! Because all we need to do is find out who is sending them footage of us."

"What makes you so sure they have a source? Wait a sec, footage? They're filming us?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrow, as if it was obvious. "Come on Martha, you live on Earth, have you seen some of the rubbish the BBC put on TV? Our adventures are far too good to be the BBC's doing!" And with a mischievous grin, he scrambled out of the kitchen, leaving a stunned Martha and an even more stunned Natalie in the whirlwind that was the Doctor's sudden departure.

"Actually it _should _be BBB." The Doctor had poked his head around the door again.

"And what would that stand for?" Martha asked sarcastically. "Brilliant Brainy…er…Brainbox?"

"I was going to say Big Blue Box, you know, the TARDIS, but I like it Martha, good thinking!" And with a wink he disappeared again.

Martha rolled her eyes and sighed before following the Doctor out of the kitchen.

Natalie was left alone on her stool, staring at the doorway, the expression on her face showing mild surprise.

* * *

The sonic screwdriver buzzed loudly in the quiet room. It was occasionally disturbed by the Doctor's incomprehensible mutterings.

"God, is my bum really that big?" came a voice from behind him. Martha had obviously just spotted herself on the television.

"Martha, there are far more serious things at hand right now." She thought she heard something that sounded like, "Apes…"

A muted repeat of "Blink" was being shown on the television in the living room and Martha had just walked in to see the Doctor squatting a metre away from the TV, sonic screwdriver in hand, a thoroughly puzzled expression on his face.

"Can I help?" Natalie, who had been pretty much silent throughout this whole peculiar ordeal, decided that she should get her act together.

"No, we are fine thanks, anyway, you're too young, you wouldn't understand." The Doctor didn't even look up. Martha kicked him.

"Sorry, was that rude? Rude and not ginger…" He grinned, "Now that brings back memories! Remember Natalie?" Her good-natured smile showed the affirmative, encouraging the Doctor, much to Martha's annoyance. "Strangest Christmas ever…Well, unless you count the last one. Aracnoss on Earth, must have been a corker of an episode! What were the ratings? Should have been sky high, higher than sky high, best thing on television since that Eastenders Christmas Special, always popular. My favourite episode had always been that one where Dirty Den dies, so dramatic!"

"Erm, yeah."

There really wasn't anything you could say to that.

"You know what Doctor," began Martha, "I take that statement I made earlier back. You were wrong, it _should_ stay as the BBC. It stands for Brilliant Brainy Chatterbox!" The Doctor just grinned at her again, boy was he in a jolly mood, and returned to his sonicking.

* * *

It took a good twenty minutes before the Doctor showed any signs of making a discovery.

"AH HA!" He cried, making both Martha and Natalie jump out of their skin.

"Here we go, come on my beauty…Yes! " He jumped to his feet and turned to face the present company. His face glowed with unhidden enthusiasm,

"Martha, Natalie, I may have found out where this fantastic television program is _really_ broadcasting from…I just need to wait for the sonic screwdr—" He stopped, mid sentence, as if frozen between two time continuums.

"Doctor?"

"It's coming from Satellite 5…"

Natalie gulped. This was bad. She knew what was going through the Doctor's head.

And boy, it really wasn't pretty…

* * *

A/N: Oo er! Bring on Satellite 5... 


	3. Chapter 2, Madness and Memories

This chapter is short and it's weird. Blame Douglas Adams, his bizarre and frankly wonderful books really addle the brain…

Disclaimer: Still not mine… Although, one should try Protein 1 with just a dash of Protein 3. Tea, apparently.

**Chapter 2**

**Madness and Memories**

She couldn't believe it. This was _not _happening. Every single dream she had ever had, had come true in the space of 34 minutes. Now 34 minutes is not a long time. Especially in the month of Sundays. Whatever that means. Many people's dreams come true over a period of many years, some never come true at all, but 34 minutes? Nearing impossible.

Now, the impossible is hard to comprehend. How can something not be possible? How would it exist in this time continuum?

Well….

I'm _not _about to explain as I have no idea. Nor did Natalie. So she gave up thought and searched for something else to do at that point in time other than think. She managed to find the merest flicker of doubt in the corner of her brain which suddenly burst into life and swallowed her mind in a colossal fireball of cynical disbelief.

Her conclusion was that she was going mad.

-Flashback-

"_So, we are going to Satellite 5 then?" Martha asked, oblivious to the Doctor's abrupt mood change._

"_Yes, looks like it." His voice was distant. Martha was quick to pick up on this and held her tongue, despite the large number of questions racing through the channels in her mind. _

_They stood in the lounge, the air thick with a humming silence. The television now showed just snow. Not literally of course, just white, grey and black fuzzy lines. Eventually, the Doctor spoke. His voice sounded tired, like he had suddenly aged another hundred years. Martha expected he had. _

"_Come on then, back to the TARDIS. We have an arrogant boss with shiny shoes and an equally shiny head to argue with. Well, I say it like fact. What I mean is probably."_

_And with that, he headed up the stairs (tripping as he went) and disappeared back into the darkness of Natalie's room, looking for the TARDIS. Not that it would be hard to find of course, but the Doctor seemed to live in his own little dimension at times. Martha grimaced at Natalie and then followed the Doctor. Although not stupidly tripping over the air that hung so dangerously over the fifth step up. _

_Natalie contemplated the probability of being left behind in this kitchen whilst two figments of her imagination flew off in another figment of her imagination to the year 200,099. She found the probability to be a solid number one. This was not good for her chances of ever living a happy life without major regret. Deciding that the variables involved in this complex equation did not include her moving, she ran up the stairs and found herself in a box that was obviously a figment of her imagination with a fully functional dimensional transidentaliser that made the interior a whole lot bigger than the exterior. _

_Strange._

-End of flashback-

Five minutes later she stepped out of the Police Box shaped phenomenon to find herself suddenly go completely mad and gain nothing out of it other than a terrible headache. Quickly deciding that the number 34 was not to her taste she freed her mind of all unnecessary thought and momentarily looked on the bright side of life.

Unsurprisingly Martha suddenly floated into view again, much to Natalie's satisfaction. Good, she was back to normal. Normal thought and conversation resumed, leaving Natalie realizing she may have just had her first epiphany. All she had discovered though was that it certainly felt strange and she never wanted another one again.

* * *

Martha eyed the large sign above her head. It bore a strange slogan, but probably was of some significance. Perhaps in more ways than one. Well, certainly more ways that Martha dared dream. "So what year are we in Doctor?"

He was poking idly at bits of wire, occasionally getting a small electric shock. "The year 200,099. Ouch! A year before I arrive. _Well, Big Ears arrives_."

"So you've been here before then?"

"Strictly speaking…no." He tugged gently on his earlobe. He wasn't sure why he did it. It was just another one of those habits. "I come here next year, but that was in the past." He pulled a face. "I'm not making sense am I?"

"You are. Although theoretically, you aren't." She too pulled a face. Now they were both confused.

"Why are you two pulling faces at each other?" Natalie asked with mild curiosity. Not enough to kill the cat. Just a mild amount.

"Never mind." They said in unison. Well, no cats would be dying today.

"So," Martha continued, "Who are the Bad Wolf Corporation?" She gestured up at the ominous sign high above their heads.

"Ask Natalie." Was the nonchalant reply. And with that, he swept from the room.

Now it was Natalie's turn to grimace. Martha turned slowly to her and spoke. "What was that all about?"

The word came out blunt and dull, but it clearly stabbed Martha in the heart as if it was sharp and recently polished.

"Rose."

Martha blinked once. Then once again. Her face soon resembled a statue's. Stony.

"Right.You know what, I don't want to know."

Natalie soon found herself alone again in the vast, ice cold room. Deciding to find an outlet with which to allow the tension to slowly ebb away, she counted the computers lining the walls.

There were 34 of them.

Oh dear.


End file.
